


You're Supposed To Be Dead

by Rambo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: 10 years later, AU, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Jealous!Sansa, Like father like son, Married!Sandor, Original Female Character - Freeform, Sandor is married, Sansa is Warden of the North, shes Myrish, the War of Five Kings is done, well daughters more like, with some pups of his own
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:26:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5555924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rambo/pseuds/Rambo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's ten years after 'A Storm of Swords', the War of the Five Kings is over, and Sansa Stark rules as Warden of the North. On a visit North to the Wall, Sansa and her household take refuge on a farm. She meets someone there she never thought she'd see again... he was supposed to be dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy my first fic! One thing I have noticed with SanSan is that there aren't nearly as many fics being written as there used to be. I would like to change that, maybe help jump start it a little bit, get the creativity flowing. This particular fic is supposed to be kind of cutesy, so I gave it a 'G' rating, but that might change to something a little more mature as it continues on with more chapters. Please leave a comment telling me what you think! If you spy any grammatical errors, tell me, and be sure to voice your opinion on what you thought of the fic itself.  
> Thanks -Rambo  
> Oh, and just so you know: Sandor- 38/Sansa- 23/Mira- 28/Rory- 2/Anne- 8/Victoria- 6  
> I own nothing except for Mira, Rory, Anne, Victoria, and Jaclyn. The rest belongs to George R.R. Martin, the wonderful man that he is.

You’re Supposed To Be Dead

 

Sansa Stark surveyed the farm from a distance with careful eyes. Behind her was her entourage of knights, soldiers, and household servants. The travelling party was on their way to the Wall for Sansa’s yearly visit, to ensure that the Wall had everything and everyone it needed. The yearly visits allowed more in-depth discussion about the needs of the Night’s Watch with the Lord Commander. The farm was decently sized, enough for the family living there to have ample supplies and live a comfortable life. There were some fields growing corn and some other crops, and pens holding sheep and pigs and chickens. A small herd of cows wandered around some of the surrounding fields that didn’t hold crops. Right in the center of it all was a decent sized farm house with two stories and a large barn.  
“My lady, should we approach and ask for a place to rest for the night?” Sansa’s handmaiden spoke beside her. Poor Jaclyn had sprained her ankle a few nights prior and was eager for a warm hearth and a soft bed where she could be safe and comfortable. Sansa also felt as though she could use the same.  
“Yes, I suppose that would be a good idea,” Sansa smiled softly at the girl and motioned for the party to move forwards. 

As they neared the property, Sansa instructed that her party be left far from the home and a small party including herself and some soldiers were to approach and ask for safe haven. Sansa and two soldiers approached the farmhouse and Sansa dismounted. Their horses must have been loud because the front door to the house opened and a young woman walked out with a child on her hip. Sansa straightened herself up and approached her, leaving the two soldiers behind. The young woman was no great beauty like Sansa, but there was no denying she was pretty. The woman didn’t look to be but a few years older than Sansa. She looked to be from Essos, perhaps Myr with her olive skin and black hair. She had large brown eyes, a long and narrow but slightly hooked nose, and full pink lips, which all came together on a gentle round face. Another thing that Sansa immediately noticed was her swollen pregnant belly that protruded from her dress. She wore a dark blue dress in a more loose style than in Westeros, very Essosi, but the fabrics were thicker and not the usual silk due to the colder weather of the North. Two young girls poked their head out from the front door of the farmhouse and watched the two women approach one another.

Sansa curtsied when two women stood before each other. “My name is Sansa, of House Stark. May I ask yours?”  
The woman spoke with a thick Myrish accent, “Yes, my name is Mira. May I ask what you are in need of, m’lady?”  
“Before I speak, know that you have every right to refuse me,” Mira nodded and Sansa continued. “My party and I are one our way to the Wall, and sadly the journey this far North has taken a toll on my household. I wish to ask to stay on your farm for the night to recuperate and prepare for the hard journey ahead.”  
Mira smiled, “You have done many good things for these lands, m’lady. Please, make yourself at home. You may stay in my house and the rest of your party may sleep in my barn.” Sansa let out a sigh of relief and called to the two soldiers accompanying her to tell them to bring the party forward. 

~Hours Later~

Sansa was extremely grateful to Mira for allowing her and her household to sleep on her farm. They hadn’t seen an inn for a week and were tired of sleeping in the open and freezing cold. Sansa laughed with her handmaiden, Jaclyn, as she sipped a cup of warm tea. The trek to the Wall was stressful and hard, and as they got further to their destination, the colder it got and the more their supplies dwindled. Mira offered Sansa a bowl of warm soup and Sansa accepted it with a smile and thanks. Mira and her farm were a blessing from the Seven. Now Sansa’s men would have a chance to sleep in Mira’s barn and be shielded from the cold for the first time in a week, they would get a chance to sleep without fear and with warmth.

“Might I inquire upon your marital status? Forgive me for prying, but this is awfully far North to be alone and with child,” Sansa spoke and then blew on a spoonful of the soup to take a bite.  
“It is fine, my lady,” Mira came away from the fireplace where she had been cooking and took a seat at her kitchen table with Sansa. “I am married, but my husband is away hunting. He should be back anytime now. I just hope he isn’t startled by all the armed men sleeping in his barn. He used to be a warrior and has trouble trusting anyone.”  
“He sounds fearsome,” Sansa gave a slight laugh and Mira nodded her head in agreement. “You must introduce me to your children! They are lovely.” Sansa smiled at the two girls playing checkers and the little boy watching them. One girl had the curly black hair, dark brown eyes, and olive skin of her mother. But where her mother’s face was soft and round, hers was sharp and narrow. The girl was still pretty, but lacked the gentle beauty of her mother. Hers was more harsh and fearsome. The little boy had black hair as well, but his was not curly and instead hung straight to his chin. His skin was also olive like his mother's, and his eyes were a pale grey, reminiscent of that of a Northman. His face was soft and round though, but Sansa could not tell if that was from his mother or from being but a few years old.

The last girl however, she looked nothing like the other two children. She was older than her sister by a few years, maybe seven or eight. Her hair was a beautiful gold color, it was neither curly nor straight, but it had a soft wave to it. Her eyes were a dark blue, with hints of grey in them. Where the other two children had the beautiful olive skin of Myr, this girl’s skin was as pale as Sansa’s, light like a fresh snow. The girl had high cheekbones and pointed chin that gave her an air of nobility. She looked nothing like Mira, maybe she took after her father.  
“Ah, yes, my pride and joy! I will gladly introduce them to you,” Mira called to them in Myrish and the three came running over. The boy stumbled a little but managed to keep up with his older sisters. “I would like you to meet someone,” Mira gestured to Sansa and Sansa smiled. Mira picked the little boy up and placed him on her lap. He was sitting almost on her knees due to her swollen pregnant belly. “This is my son, Rory. Say hello, Rory.” Rory looked up at Sansa with wide eyes and said a small ‘Hello’. Sansa greeted him back.  
“These are my girls, introduce yourselves,” Mira bounced Rory on her knee and he giggled.  
The black haired girl spoke first, “I’m Victoria, pleased to meet you.” She bowed her head slightly and then glared at Sansa for a brief moment before looking away. Sansa didn’t blame her; she was an intruder in her home that brought strange men with swords to her doorstep. Fearsome beauty indeed.  
The blonde girl spoke, “My name is Anne.” She did not bow her head, but held it high.  
Sansa bowed hers to the children and smiled, “It is nice to meet all of you. I’m Sansa Stark.”

After introductions were made, Mira sent her children back to play and they all ran back to their checker board. “They are wonderful,” Sansa said.  
“They are, but Victoria can be a handful. She is strong willed, like her father. And fierce like him too.”  
“Rory and Victoria look just like you. Does Anne look like your husband?’ Sansa took another sip of her tea and then twirled her spoon in her soup bowl.  
“Oh no, she looks nothing like him. She gets her looks from her mother, or so my husband says,” Mira gave a sad smile.  
“Oh, I am so sorry… I didn’t mean to…” Sansa stumbled for a second.  
“No, no, no. It’s fine. I love her like my own. Anne is my husband’s natural daughter. Her mother died giving birth to her,” Mira and Sansa watched the children in silence for a moment. Sansa’s handmaiden, Jaclyn, could faintly be heard upstairs readying the room the two of them would share.  
“What is your husband’s name?” Mira looked up with a warm smile on her face. Sansa could tell she loved her husband very much by how quickly her face lit up.  
“It’s Sandor,” Sansa’s heart fluttered for a second at the name she hadn’t heard in ten years. “Sandor Cle-“

The sound of the front door bursting open startled both women. The noise was followed by a deep bellowing voice with a rasp Sansa could never forget. “Mira!” it called out. Sansa was on her feet before Mira was and began rushing to him. He was supposed to be dead, he was supposed to have died long ago. She had heard about Saltpans, she had heard what people said he did. But she never believed them. He had told her that killing was the sweetest thing there is. But that’s it, killing. He was no rapist; he’d proved that on the night of the Battle of the Blackwater. He’d had a knife to her throat, had her on the bed, they were alone, and no one would have heard them over the noise of the battle below. But he’d wept when she sang, took nothing but a kiss, and left.

Sansa picked up her skirts and dashed through the house until she came face to face with him. He was breathing in, preparing to call for Mira -his wife- again when he noticed her. She was slightly out of breath from her brief sprint and stood there looking at him with wide eyes. Mira came up behind them and looked onto the scene with confusion.  
“Clegane.”  
“Little Bird.”


	2. The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor and Sansa have a moment to talk, but they're interrupted by a storm from the North. Mira and Sansa share a moment. It looks like they'll have plenty of time to get to know each other.

"Clegane."  
"Little Bird."

Any further exchange seemed to die on both their lips. All that either Sansa or Sandor could do was stand in shock as a ghost from their past appeared out of nowhere. 

Mira had waddled in behind the two, brown eyes flitting in between them. She cleared her throat of a non-existent obstruction, "Sandor, the Lady Stark has come to us seeking a safe place to sleep. She and her men are headed to the Wall and I opened our home to them."  
Clegane blinked and then nodded, looking up at his wife. He turned back to Sansa, nodded at her as well, and then brusquely walked past both of the women. 

Sansa was stiff as a board where she stood, hands in a white-knuckle grip on the wool of her skirts. She wasn't sure if Mira had heard their exchange of names; one formal, the other a now seemingly intimate moniker from a past life. If she had, she didn't let on, Sansa thanked the gods for that small blessing and turned to follow Mira and... her husband. 

Clegane had made his way to the fireplace, Mira standing behind him rubbing small circles on his lower back. She could probably tell how on-edge he was from the armed men in his barn. It seems more ghosts have come to haunt him from his former life, but this time they bore grey cloaks, not crimson. Sansa swallowed a lump in her throat and took her seat at the large dining table once more. They heavy oak was rough against her fingertips as she rested her shaking hands upon its surface. Her blue eyes, skillfully masked from emotion, slid across the room to the two in front of the fireplace. Mira and Clegane were whispering, obviously not wanting the lady to overhear their conversation. Clegane's voice became sharp for a moment, but then softened when Mira scowled at him. Sansa almost giggled at how easily he was cowed by his tiny, angry wife. He was hardly recognizable from the horribly furious man from Sansa's time in King's Landing. 

The couple ceased their hush conversation and made their way back over to the dining table. Mira took her seat from earlier, right next to Sansa, and Clegane sat opposite his wife. The children had gone back to playing checkers, Rory babbling quietly while perched in Anne's lap. Sansa took a moment to appraise Clegane, the new man. His scars were still gruesome, but the years had made them less angry, much like the man himself. His hair still hung straight to his shoulders, but strands of grey could be seen throughout. A hard and stressful life took its toll early on the man. His face had lost some of its gauntness, his cheeks didn't seem so hollow and his eyes weren't sunken. Sansa remembers how he always seemed to be drunk and awake when everyone but her was asleep. His hooked nose stood out on his face, a familiar feature to Sansa. Her eyes became almost heavy as they travelled down its bridge, over the hook, and below the tip to land on his mouth. Her own lips seemed to tingle with a memory from a decade ago. Sansa's mind went back to her room in the Keep, to flickering green blazes lighting up the man on top of her. She'd sung, he'd cried, stolen a kiss, and left. It was a rough thing, frantic and crazed, but his skin had been soft, the corner slightly leathery from his burns. Sansa blushed all of a sudden and turned her head down to hide it. She composed herself quickly, feeling the heat die, and looked back upon her hosts graciously. 

Years of a good woman, little wine, and thorough rest had made Clegane look like a different man. The hate had gone from his eyes, leaving behind tired grey pools. Mira had a small smile dancing across her lips as she looked upon her husband. Sansa felt dirty for having the thoughts of that damned kiss in her mind in front of Mira, the woman who opened her arms and home to the Starks and who lovingly held Clegane's babe in her belly. Sansa frowned, and then fiddled with the spoon in her soup.   
She then opened her mouth to speak, "Ah, Mira, your husband and I seem to have already met." Clegane's head shot up at her words. "I knew him when I was a girl."  
"Oh," was all Mira said.   
Clegane chose to speak, "When I was sworn shield to the mad boy-king, the Lady Sansa was in King's Landing as well."  
Mira smiled, "What a small world."  
"Indeed," Sansa spoke. Silence fell over the table. 

Sansa stewed in the tense silence, words obviously unspoken hanging over the trio. Sansa went to speak again, to Clegane this time, "I wanted to thank y-" but before the final word was uttered, the front door burst open once more.   
"Lady Sansa!" It was one of Sansa's men, she recognized him as Kristof. All heads turned to the intrusion. "A storm is seen coming from the North. It appears to be a blizzard." Sansa's stomach dropped at the prospect of being trapped here for who knows how long. A week? Two? A month?   
"Let me seen," she stood and rushed to the door, the winds had already begun to pick up. They kicked up dirt and it cut across Sansa's face. She raised an arm to shield her eyes. As she peered into the distance, at the North as Kristof had said, a swirling mass of fast-approaching storm clouds could be seen. 

The word had been cast in an eerie blue-gray from the clouds overtaking the sun. Sansa was about to give orders for her men to take shelter, but before she could, Clegane had pushed past her and began barking commands at the men milling about the yard trying to bring the horses into the barn. "Get some extra hands and help me get the animals into the barn!"   
They froze for a moment, unsure if they were supposed to follow the fearsome man's words or wait for some from their lady. Sansa wasted no time, "Do as he says! Get the horses in, but the animals from the fields as well! As many as you can!" 

The animals were Mira and the children's livelihood, without them, they may well starve in the upcoming winter. The crops were likely to be dead soon, the blizzard would see to that, so Clegane was probably banking on whatever he had stored and the animals for food as well. Clegane ushered Sansa and his wife back inside. He wrapped an arm around Mira, drew her close, and planted a tender kiss upon her lips. Sansa heart a faint 'I love you' exchanged between the two, and then he was gone, slamming the door and running off to help the soldiers. 

The wind scraped along the sides of the house, screaming and howling as it passed by. Mira began to open the windows and close the shutters and then slide the glass back into place. The wind bit at her face and blew her hair wildly out behind her, the black curls billowing every which way. "Let me help! What do you need?" Sansa said as she walked toward Mira.  
"Please, close the shutters upstairs, you can probably get up there faster than me. 

Sansa did as she was told. She took the stairs two at a time. There were only four rooms upstairs, so Sansa quickly worked through them. One was hers to stay in, Jaclyn had heard the commotion, peeked her head out as Sansa climbed the stairs, and tried to help her lady. She limped to one of the rooms to close the shutters and Sansa made her way into the one beside it. She faltered in her steps a moment as her eyes fell upon the massive bed that obviously belonged to Clegane and Mira. The sheets and furs were messy, a surprisingly ornate vanity for a farm was on one wall, flanked by a trunk on either side, and a chimney was on the opposite wall. The window was above the bed, and Sansa could not reach it from the side, so she crawled onto the straw mattress and kneeled on the pillows. She felt as though she was trampling over a very important place, a place she had yet to experience with another. Sansa shook her head, banished the thought, opened the window, was assisted by the increasingly harsh winds, and closed the shutters. She had to fight to get them secured, but as soon as she did, she slid the window back in place, hopped off the bed, and left the room a little faster than necessary. Once all the shutters were secured upstairs, Sansa helped Jaclyn back into their room and eased her down for her to sit on the bed. "Rest now, you've done so much. Thank you," Sansa smiled at her maid's gentle face. Jaclyn beamed up at her lady, said her 'thank you' and Sansa descended the stairs to the first floor. 

Mira was sitting at the table, her brows knitted, one hand over her belly. Sansa walked over to her and placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "He'll be okay, we both know he's strong."  
"I know he is, but all I can do is wait, and that's a scary thing. To just wait, and wait and have no control," Mira looked like she was ready to cry.   
"I know that feeling. When I was a girl, in King's Landing, I was treated horribly by King Joffrey. I won't go into details of what I endured, but I want you to know I would not be alive without your husband. He saved me many times, both from myself, and from others. I've seen him fight, I know he's a strong man. A little bit of snow won't take him down," Mira gave a choked laugh at that.   
"Thank you, m'lady. For your kind words. I'm glad to know he saved your life, for the North would not be the same without you. We will have plenty of time to swap stories with this blizzard. I look forward to it," Mira smiled and reached up to squeeze Sansa's hand upon her shoulder. "But now, we wait."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha you thought I abandoned this! I had! But my prideful ass didn't want that to be said, so thanks for calling me out and getting me to finish another chapter. I'm gonna write some more today, maybe update another one of my stories as well. Ah, yes, 'now we wait'.

**Author's Note:**

> Well... What'd you think? Sorry if the dialogue wasn't great, I wrote this in pieces on different devices and compiled all of it here. It didn't piece together as well as I'd hoped. I tried to show that time had passed and Sansa was asking more personal questions to Mira because the two had gotten to know each other better. That didn't exactly work, since in the time they were talking Mira's children hadn't been introduced, and it was only until much later that Sansa brought it up. That didn't work too great... But anyways, drop a comment telling me what you did or didn't like about the story. I would love to hear what you have to say!  
> Thanks -Rambo


End file.
